


Gave You Everything And All I Got Was This {I'm Still Rockin Your Leather Jacket}

by spaceprincessem



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is a Nice Thing, M/M, Mates, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26592262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprincessem/pseuds/spaceprincessem
Summary: It had been an accident, putting it on for the first time.He was in a rush, with Scott and Kira yelling at him from the hallway. It had been firmly shoved in his bag, in the back of his closet, in the dark for the first month of his arrival back at the dorm. It wasn’t until he felt this terrible, bone deep longing that he numbly pulled it out of exile. It still smelled like Derek. It still felt familiar in his hands. It still was a painful reminder of being left behind. When he couldn’t stand to hold it anymore he threw it over the back of his chair, not daring to touch it because he was afraid he would get burned.So it came as a shock as he closed his door, running to catch up with his friends, shrugging the jacket on without thinking. It was a little big, a little warm, and a little bit like the feeling of home wrapping around him.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 13
Kudos: 458





	Gave You Everything And All I Got Was This {I'm Still Rockin Your Leather Jacket}

**May**

This hadn’t been the way Stiles envisioned his first week home for the summer after his freshman year of college. Of course things had calmed down in Beacon Hills since they had graduated, moving on to bigger and better things, but sometimes -  _ Stiles thought wryly _ \- the town liked to remind them that they could never really escape. It was like taking a bite out of a humble pie, except the pie had that sickeningly, metallic taste of blood and it was more or less shoved down their throats than taken willingly. Either way, Stiles can safely say he  _ did not _ miss waking up in the hospital in severe pain that could only mean he had been  _ this _ close to death’s door once again. He didn’t miss seeing the fear and exhaustion in his father’s eyes when he finally blinked awake. And he certainly didn’t miss that look in Derek’s grey-green eyes. 

It was a look at Stiles had seen over and over again. It was there when he carried Erica’s body out of the bank vault. It was there when he was forced to take Boyd’s life. It was there when he realized Jennifer had taken advantage of him to gain power. It was there when Stiles looked back as the man was dying against the concrete, telling him to go even when Stiles desperately wanted to stay. It was Derek’s deeply seated guilt that it was his fault this happened. His fault he almost lost yet another person he cared about. A person he loved.

Because they were heading towards being something, anything, an  _ almost.  _ Stiles had always known that loving Derek had its consequences, but he had been prepared to face them, because Derek had been willing to try. 

An almost.

Almost a confession. Almost a kiss. Almost enough. Almost.

And Stiles should have known when he saw that look in Derek’s eyes, felt the way the wolf squeezed his hand a little too hard, mumbling apologies, he should have known where it would have ended.

_ Take this, to remember me by. _

Stiles felt his jaw trembling, knuckles going white as he gripped the worn, black leather in his calloused hands. He could see where the fabric was frayed at the cuffs. He knew if he turned it over he could run his finger against a messily stitched rip from months ago. He could inhale the smell of aftershave and pine, like it had bled into the jacket itself, permanently saturated with the scent of Derek Hale. He had imagined stealing this precious item a thousand times over, wearing it like a second skin, wondering if the older man would smile or scowl at Stiles wearing it like it was his own. But now, as it sat in his clenched hands, Stiles didn’t want it anymore. It had been abandoned. 

_ He had been abandoned. _

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip, fighting the crushing weight slowly caving in his chest, tears pooling in his eyes. He should have known when he heard the window being shoved open last night, a gentle dip in his bed half waking him from his drug induced sleep.

_ “I know how you feel.” Derek murmured, fingers brushing against Stiles’ hair softly. “I wish it were enough that I felt the same way.” _

_ “MmmDerek?” Stiles hummed, reaching out in the darkness, settling for the cuffs of Derek’s leather jacket. _

_ “Scott’s the alpha,” Derek continued, “he’ll take care of the pack.” _

_ Stiles grimaced, eyes still closed. Derek sounded so sad, why did he sound so sad? His head was beginning to thump painfully and Stiles knew if he opened his eyes the room would spin, but he wasn’t sure if he was imagining Derek or not. Even in the darkness he could just make out the shape Derek curled against him, fingers still running through Stiles’ messy hair. Stiles groaned as he felt a wave of sickness hit him, his broken ribs protesting at his movement.  _

_ “I’ve got you.” Derek whispered. _

_ Stiles sighed in relief as the pain slowly ebbed away. He could feel himself drifting back off to sleep, his grip tightening around the jacket, like he was afraid Derek would disappear. _

_ “Don’t leave.” Stiles breathed. _

_ “You got hurt because of me.” Derek said. “I won’t lose you too. Not in that way” _

_ “Mmrighthere.” _

_ “I’m sorry. _

_ Stiles felt Derek’s lips press against his forehead, a feeling of warmth and comfort and a little bit of heartbreak flooding through him. He barely had time to register the last feeling as he drifted back off to sleep. _

Derek had left. Derek had left without a fucking proper goodbye. Derek had left just as they were about to be that  _ something _ . Derek had left Stiles after everything they had been through together. Derek had left knowing he loved Stiles the same way Stiles had loved him. Still loved him. Derek had left and thought his jacket would be enough.

Stiles screamed, throwing the stupid thing across the room. It hit the wall, slumping to the ground as a sobbed ripped up his throat. He tore up the note, hating the way Derek’s “y” curled up at the end of the tail. He collapsed on his bed, the tears coming hot and fast now. His head was spinning, ribs aching terribly, body protesting every movement, but he didn’t reach for the pain meds sitting on his night stand. The pain was a reminder that he could still feel something. Something other than the terrible, gaping hole in his chest that so desperately wanted to hate Derek Hale.

If anything, Stiles just loved him more. All that was left was his memory and a useless leather jacket.

  
  


* * *

**June**

It was still sitting in the corner, crumpled and lonely. Stiles still threw it a gut wrenching glance every time he left his room. 

It still hurt.

  
  


* * *

**July**

He didn’t look at it anymore.

  
  


* * *

**August**

Somehow it ended up packed at the top of his college bag. 

Stiles couldn’t let it go. Not yet.

* * *

**September**

It had been an accident, putting it on for the first time. 

He was in a rush, with Scott and Kira yelling at him from the hallway. It had been firmly shoved in his bag, in the back of his closet, in the dark for the first month of his arrival back at the dorm. It wasn’t until he felt this terrible, bone deep longing that he numbly pulled it out of exile. It still smelled like Derek. It still felt familiar in his hands. It still was a painful reminder of being left behind. When he couldn’t stand to hold it anymore he threw it over the back of his chair, not daring to touch it because he was afraid he would get burned. 

So it came as a shock as he closed his door, running to catch up with his friends, shrugging the jacket on without thinking. It was a little big, a little warm, and a little bit like the feeling of home wrapping around him. 

* * *

**October**

Stiles barely took the jacket off. 

It felt both so wrong and so right to wear it. Scott had asked him if Derek had come back because Stiles was now saturated in the wolf’s scent. Stiles had thought it would hurt to tell Scott  _ no _ , but he didn’t feel anything where Derek was concerned. It was easier to lock all of those feelings away because Stiles knew -  _ he knew _ \- there was no getting over Derek Hale. 

* * *

**November**

Stiles should have known something was bound to go wrong. Things typically did where his life was concerned. They were home for fall break and had just celebrated a pack Thanksgiving together. He’d gone for a walk because even though the pack was doing better than ever, it was still too much sometimes. Derek had been one of them. He belonged. Stiles could still feel his absence. Heart still aching. 

The sun had just set, the leather jacket wrapped around him tightly when he felt something hit him on the back of the head, hard. He barely had time to panic as he was dragged into the trunk of a car before he passed out. When he came to he was tied to a chair in some abandoned warehouse with three pairs of glowing eyes looking right at him. Great.

“You’re telling me that not even the bad guys take holidays?” Stiles groaned as he sat back, his vision still a little blurry from the hit.

“He thinks he’s funny.” A female voice said, her glowing blue eyes turning toward the pair of bright red next to her.

“No,” Stiles said, trying to smile, “I know I’m funny.”

“Hard to believe that Derek Hale would want someone like you.” The alpha said as he stepped into the light. 

He was big. Like really big. Like he could bench press a truck without having to use his werewolf strength big. Stiles blinked a few times. He had been so distracted by the alpha’s size that he almost hadn’t heard him say Derek’s name.

“What?” Stiles asked. “Derek? What the hell does this have to do with Derek?”

The other beta stepped forward, another big guy with dark eyes when they weren’t glowing blue. He had a particular nasty snarl on his lips as he regarded Stiles for a moment.

“This has everything to do with Derek Hale.” He growled.

Stiles looked back at the female beta and the alpha for a moment before settling back on the man that looked ready to rip his throat out with his teeth. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Sorry to tell you that Derek left months ago. Hasn’t been back since.”

“That’s impossible.” The female said, her eyes flashing again. “You smell just like him.”

Stiles’ eyes immediately darted down to the leather jacket he was wearing. Of course he smelled like Derek. He never took the damn thing off. Derek had left it for him. It was his jacket now.

_ Take this, to remember me by. _

But it smelled like Derek. Which made Stiles smell like Derek. Which meant Stiles as in big trouble.

“It’s not-” Stiles huffed in annoyance, “it’s not what you think. He left some things behind and I stole his jacket, okay?”

“Lie.” The alpha said casually, his head tilting to the side as he regarded Stiles curiously. 

“I’m not lying.” Stiles said through gritted teeth. He gave the ropes binding his hands a good jerk, but they wouldn’t give. He had a throbbing headache and he could feel dried blood caked down his neck, but he knew he was in very real danger. For some reason this pack was looking for Derek and, well, if Stiles couldn’t help them then he would be considered pretty useless.

“Forgive me,” the alpha said as he took a step forward flicking his right wrist forward, his claws extending immediately, “I recognize that you speak the truth about Hale’s absence, but not about how you acquired the jacket.”

Stiles eyed the claws wearily as the alpha flexed his fingers, his lips curling up into a cruel smile.

“I don’t know where Derek is.” Stiles tried to keep his voice calm, even, but he knew his racing heart and his building panic and anxiety was giving him away.

“Curious,” the alpha said before swiftly slamming his claws deep into Stiles’ left thigh, drawing a pain cry from the boy, “how Derek abandoned his mate. Left him unprotected.”   


Through the searing pain Stiles felt his mind focus on one word the alpha had said. _ Mate _ . Stiles would laugh if he wasn't biting down so hard on his tongue that he drew blood as the alpha twisted his claws. 

“I’m not,” Stiles gasped as the wolf ripped his hand away, “his mate. I’m not his mate!”

“You sure, darling?” The female said as she slowly walked around Stiles, her long nails trailing across his shoulders, down his back, until they gripped his pinky finger. There was a sickening cracking sound and Stiles jerked in his seat, crying out in pain. “Because we think you are.”

“He left me.” Stiles felt the sob climbing its way up his throat, but he choked it down. “He doesn’t….I can’t be….”

“You see, Stiles,” Stiles’ head shot up at the sound of his name, “Derek took the life of Marcus’ mate a few months ago and we thought we’d return the favor.” The alpha nodded to the beta who was still looking at Stiles hungrily.

Stiles was full on panicking now. They had the wrong person. He wasn’t Derek’s mate.  _ He wasn’t _ . How could he be if Derek so easily left him behind? All he left was his jacket -  _ his jacket! _ \- and a note that broke his fucking heart. He knew why Derek ran. It was because of that goddamn look in his eyes when Stiles woke up in the hospital after saving the alpha’s life. It was that guilt ridden, terrified of losing someone, thinking it was all his fault  _ look _ . Because Derek thought he didn’t deserve to be happy and that he could protect Stiles if he just disappeared, but now he was going to lose Stiles anyway because these avenging werewolves thought he could possibly be Derek’s mate.

“Now we both know that’s not true.” The alpha said with a smile.

Stiles barely had time to think about how much he had said aloud when the beta was charging at him, fangs bared and claws poised for the kill. Stiles closed his eyes, concentrating all of his will, his belief,  _ his spark  _ as he felt something sharp graze across his chest. There was a loud bang, a flash of bright light, and Stiles was being shot backwards, the wolves thrown in the opposite direction. He slammed against the wall, the wooden chair shattering, the ropes binding his hands disintegrating. There was a tumultuous roar from somewhere in front of him, but Stiles didn’t care as he scrambled to his feet. His head was spinning and he felt drained from whatever power he had used, but it didn’t stop him from bolting towards the door.

“Not so fast.” A dark voice snarled.

Stiles was thrown to the ground by the dark eyed beta, his claws tearing right into Stiles’ shoulder to keep him pinned to the ground. His cry was cut off as he felt the beta’s other clawd hand gently move across his throat, like he was tracing the line for his fangs to rip into.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to give Derek his jacket back.”

Stiles closed his, wondering if he would black out from pain and blood loss before the beta tore him into pieces. He could feel the wolf’s hot breath against his skin, but the shiver that ran down his spine came from the sound of a howl just behind them. It was a sound Stiles hadn’t heard in months. He could feel tears falling hot and fast, his heart pounding in his chest, as he let one word escape his lips.

“Derek.”

Derek had come to save him

* * *

When Stiles woke up he wasn’t surprised to see the familiar powder blue wallpaper of Beacon Hills hospital. He wasn’t surprised to see his father sagging in relief from the other side of the glass window, giving him an exhausted smile. He wasn’t surprised to see Melissa wrapping Scott in a tight hug as they waved at him from the other side. 

He was surprised to see Derek Hale sitting next to him, hand firmly grasped in his own, wearing the leather jacket he had left Stiles all those months ago.

“Stiles-” Derek began, but stopped, like he didn’t know the words to say.

Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off of Derek. Couldn’t believe that he was here. He was real. It had been six months. No text. No call. No sign that he would ever be coming back. Just a note. A note and a leather jacket. 

“You left me.” Stiles finally said right before he broke down and began to sob.

* * *

**December**

Stiles didn’t know what to do. It had been a few weeks since the incident. Since Derek had come back. He was constantly waiting for the older man to disappear again, vanishing in the middle of the night leaving only a small piece of him behind. Derek had said his name -  _ his name _ \- and it felt like Stiles had shattered into a thousand pieces. That was all it took for Stiles to lay it all out.

He had talked and cried and screamed so much that his voice gave out. And at the end of it all Derek didn’t deny it. Stiles was his mate. Stiles was his everything. And yet -  _ and yet _ \- it wasn’t enough to make him stay. 

Stiles stood in the middle of his room, tired eyes roaming over the space that suddenly felt a little emptier. He tugged on the sleeves of his hoodie, cursing that it wasn’t as warm as Derek’s leather jacket. Not that he wanted it anymore. Or maybe he did. He didn’t really know.

He wasn’t surprised when he heard the window sliding open, Derek gracefully swinging over the threshold. It was like a blast from the past and Stiles half expected Derek to ask him about some supernatural research or bark at him for being reckless in their most recent fight. Instead, Derek just stood there with  _ that look _ in his grey-green eyes.

“Stiles.”

“Have you come to say goodbye again?” Stiles asked, voice trembling. “Because I know that look in your eye. It was the same goddamn look you had when you left the first time.”

Derek snapped his mouth shut, averting his gaze. Stiles pressed his lips together, head dropping for a moment as he took a step forward.

“Because if you’re leaving,” Stiles continued when Derek remained silent, “I don’t want your jacket. I don’t want to have something to remember you by.” Stiles took another step forward, raising his shaking hands as he pressed them against Derek’s chest. “I don’t want to smell like you. I don’t want to be reminded of you.”

Derek’s hands came up, gripping Stiles’ wrist gently as their eyes met. “What do you want Stiles?”

“I want you to realize that you deserve to be happy.” Stiles said, his fingers curling into the fabric of Derek’s shirt. “I want you to know that I love you. I’ve always loved you. I want you to know that when you left it broke my heart.”

“Stiles…” Derek whined, his face twisting like he could  _ feel _ Stiles’ pain, his heartache. And maybe he could. That’s how the mating bond worked, right? Or so Deaton had explained.

“I want to be angry with you for not saying goodbye.” Stiles continued, feeling his body shaking with all of the pent up emotions of  _ Derek Hale _ that he had locked away for half a year. “I want to be with you. I want to wear your stupid leather jacket, but only because you gave it to me because it was too cold or you like to see me in your clothes. But most of all-” Stiles felt his voice falter.

Derek pulled Stiles’ hands from his shirt, pulling the boy closer so they were mere inches apart. Stiles could count the lashes fanning the sea of grey-green. He could trace his eyes, memorizing every curve, every line, every little subtlety that made up the beauty of Derek.

“Most of all?” Derek asked.

“Most of all,” Stiles said, tongue darting out to lick his lips, “I want you to stay.”

“Okay, Stiles,” Derek said as he slipped out of his jacket, throwing it around Stiles’ shoulders, “I’ll stay.”

Stiles slipped his arms in the sleeves, closing his eyes for a moment as he inhaled deeply. Aftershave, pine, and a little something wild, but that was just Derek.

“You’ll stay.” Stiles repeated as felt warm lips brush against his own.

“I won’t leave you, not again, not ever.” Derek kissed the right corner of Stiles’ lips before softly doing the same on the other side.

“Good.” Stiles said with a smile. “I’m still keeping your jacket.”

Derek chuckled before Stiles closed the distance between them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a self indulgent fic used to help give me a break from my long ass wip that is slowly killing me. Inspired by Hey Violet's song "Hoodie". Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!


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